Of Love and Morality
by fuzzydream
Summary: Mr. Bates helps Anna come to terms with her actions after the Pamuk incident. Set after 1.03.


**A/N:** I've always wondered how Anna handled the whole Pamuk thing, as we never got to know what went through her mind then - we barely saw her after those scenes in the episode. So here's my take on how Anna got over the initial shock of what happened - plus it's always nice to go back to the early days of their relationship. I like to think that this happened sometime later that week. Hope you'll like it - I'd love to know your thoughts! Also, thanks a lot to Terrie, my lovely editor. :)

**Disclaimer:** I _obviously_ don't own Downton Abbey.

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_Of Love and Morality_

by fuzzydream

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Anna walked slowly across the familiar path of the Downton village, having just left church; it was a rather gloomy Sunday morning, cloudy, and it looked like it would rain. She had just gone to the early morning service, but she couldn't make herself enjoy it like she usually did. She didn't pay as much attention as she should have, and she was sure Mrs. Hughes must have caught her too immersed in her own thoughts at least three times. Anna only hoped the housekeeper would let it go.

She lingered behind, not walking back to Downton with them, and told Mrs. Hughes she just needed a minute. It wasn't in Anna's nature to keep her feelings quiet. She could keep her opinions to herself and she could keep secrets like no one else could, but Anna had always had trouble with her feelings and her emotional troubles. Most of the time she could find someone to share these with – Gwen and Mrs. Hughes were her constant confidents – but now she couldn't talk to anyone about what was troubling her.

She had kept everything to herself for a couple of days now, since the dreadful incident. She could barely sleep; perhaps it was just silly for her to feel this way. She did what she had to do. She had no other choice.

But it didn't mean she had to feel good about it.

How could she feel good about dragging poor Mr. Pamuk's dead body around the endless corridors of Downton Abbey? Anna remembered it every day when she walked around those same corridors, and she remembered it every night before she went to sleep.

So, she settled on a safe help. She would talk to the vicar; perhaps she would find some comfort with that. She wouldn't confess to him – she hadn't sinned, had she? – but she could use some guidance. When she approached Reverend Travis about it, he seemed a bit perplexed, and offered her more questions than answers.

She had proceeded on asking him about loyalty and how it could surpass the boundaries of one's sense of morality; she really couldn't be more specific on this case, as much as she wanted to. Perhaps it was the fear of letting the secret out; she had been told by Lady Grantham and Lady Mary herself that she didn't need to keep this secret. Still, Anna knew she would never tell anyone of it – it wasn't her secret to tell.

Reverend Travis's words had been kind, and while Anna appreciated them, she found herself wondering, once again, if she had, indeed, done the right thing. Never in her life had she thought she would have carried a dead body – and she had been the one to suggest it in the first place! Oh, what would her mum think if she found out her own daughter was now dragging corpses around Downton Abbey?

In truth, Anna felt ashamed. In that morning, when she arrived downstairs for breakfast, she didn't feel hungry. She faked surprise when told of Pamuk's death, and she was sure she hadn't looked anyone in the eye that morning, merely four days ago. She hadn't been able to have much of a conversation with anyone since then; she hadn't even written her weekly letter home. Perhaps people thought she was affected by Mr. Pamuk's death like some of the younger maids were. Foolish, young girls who somehow romanticised him. But Anna wasn't one of them, despite what people might think. She had thought Mr. Pamuk was a fine young man, but she had never really taken her time to think about him at all. She had been curious at first, but nothing beyond it.

She couldn't, and definitely would never judge Lady Mary for her actions; though Anna thought she'd never be in such a situation herself, was she able to say the same, were she in the same position of Lady Mary? Anna wasn't sure. Their lives were so different, they were raised so differently. She couldn't have declined to help her – such conjecture never existed. She hadn't had any other option other than to follow her out of the servants' quarters and help her put Mr. Pamuk back into his own room.

Anna doubted she'd ever forget the look on his face. The glassy, unmoving eyes. The dead weight of him against her shoulders as she, along with Lady Grantham and Lady Mary, moved his body.

Did she feel guilty about it? No – she had no further information about his death and, truthfully, Anna didn't want to know any more than she already did. She should let this go. She did what she had to do, she played her part the way it had to be played, and she wouldn't tell this to anyone, not ever.

But why was it so difficult to forget?

So immersed in her thoughts, she only realised there was someone walking near her when he was directly beside her. She smiled when she saw the cane, and looked up to Mr. Bates's face. He presented her with that kind half-smile of his that always made her stomach flutter just a bit.

"Good morning, Anna," he said softly when their eyes met, "I don't believe we've talked yet today."

Anna averted her eyes; that was true. They hadn't talked much in the past few days. Mr. Bates was here for only a few months, but he already meant so much to her. He was probably her best friend. They'd stay up late talking and sharing tales and opinions, and Anna enjoyed his company so much. Probably more than she should. If she were honest with herself, she wanted him to be so much more than her friend, no matter what people might say. One would think they were so different – the big age gap, his quiet manners, the fact that he went to war and saw so much of the world and her life had been all about getting her work done at Downton for more than ten years now.

But to Anna, they weren't very different from each other. He was kind and funny when he was with her, away from prying eyes and she always thought he looked quite free – and younger – in those moments. They had shared many memories of their childhood and life before, even though Anna would never outwardly ask him about them. He'd always make her tea the way she liked when they stayed up late working, and Anna doubted she had ever had such a good time working late; those moments were always a joy ever since he came to work here.

But lately – after the Pamuk incident – she hadn't been able to look him in the eye. Mr. Bates was such an honourable, loyal man. What would he think if he knew she helped move a dead man's body to his bedroom, late at night? Oh, she couldn't even think of the possibility of him finding out. She was sure he thought of her as a model to the other girls, as they'd often seek her for advice; she knew he noticed how Mrs. Hughes trusted her, and how Mr. Carson didn't question her actions. He'd be disappointed to find out about what she had done. He'd certainly change his opinion of her. Somehow, him finding out about what she had done was even worse than thinking of what her mum would think about the situation. It shouldn't matter that much, but it did.

Because she was in love with him.

She had stopped trying to convince herself otherwise weeks ago. She didn't deny it any longer – she was in love with Mr. Bates. She was in love with his quiet manners, and his soft voice; the way his eyes crinkled when she made him smile, how openly he talked to her when they walked by themselves to the village, how he sought for her opinion after reading an article in the newspaper or how he'd sometimes read to her an excerpt of the book he was currently reading to know her thoughts about it. She loved watching his hands mending and working on his lordship's clothes and handcuffs late at night and she loved their conversations so much they were the highlights of her days.

She was in love with Mr. Bates, even though she sometimes had no idea what to make of him.

And that was why she had avoided him for the past days – for fear she'd say something she shouldn't, or that he'd notice something was different. She couldn't bear to think of telling him what happened in that night, fearful of his opinion.

So, instead, she raised her gaze and smiled weakly at him.

"You would be right, Mr. Bates," she agreed, "I stayed behind to talk to Reverend Travis."

"I noticed," he told her quietly, and she started to walk a bit slower to match his pace, without even noticing she was doing this. "I hope there's nothing to worry about. Is your mother well?"

Anna smiled inwardly, her heart filling with hope as it normally did when he managed to ask all the perfect things to her. Of course he'd think there was something to worry about, what with her staying behind to talk with the reverend. And of course he'd be thoughtful enough to ask about her mother. Because that was exactly what Mr. Bates was, thoughtful and kind.

"Yes, she's well. Thank you for asking," Anna answered slowly, "I stayed to ask him for some guidance. It was silly of me, really. Of course he wouldn't be able to solve all my problems."

"Religion does tend to make us think it can solve everything with a pray," he told her with a small smile.

She held his gaze, knowing he wasn't a very religious man. They had never outwardly spoken of it, really, but judging by some few comments here and there, she knew he was sceptical man, and yet it didn't bother her. He probably saw so much horror during the war that she couldn't blame him. While Anna was a religious woman, and would never miss the service, she could understand him. A pray wouldn't solve one's problems, but it gave her some solace afterwards, and for now that was enough.

"You have been quiet this week," Mr. Bates noted after a moment of silence, "I think Mr. Pamuk's death was a shock to all of us."

Anna tried not to show surprise at his comment, but then of course he'd seek her opinion on the matter. By avoiding him, she had avoided talking about Mr. Pamuk's death – they always used to talk about the house's situations and guests when they were alone, so he must have thought it weird that she hadn't talked to him about such a big event. Realisation hit Anna as she understood the reason behind his comment. He might think she was just like the younger maids – that she had developed a crush on the foreigner, and that his death caused her to avoid him.

And that, somehow, became a more worrying possibility than him knowing the real reason behind her avoidance.

She nodded weakly at him, "I suppose it was. Daisy's been particularly quiet."

"Not more than you have, though," his tone was teasing, but Anna suspected there was more to it. "You do know you could always talk to me."

His tone was so quiet, so soft, that Anna had to gulp silently at his words. It was amazing how little could he say and how much he really meant. He wasn't pushing her; she had a feeling he was a bit worried about her silence over the past days. In truth, she had obviously missed talking to him.

She smiled and nodded, staring at the path ahead of them.

"You got it wrong if you think I'm quiet because I'm shocked about his death," she tried to make her tone teasing, but she suspected it sounded more serious than she wanted it to be. "Not that I wasn't surprised. Such a strange way to die. And so young too."

He nodded thoughtfully. They heard a thunder in the distance. It wouldn't take much longer to start raining, and yet Anna was in no hurry.

"I suppose… Well, I've been having some doubts. About where I stand," she told him slowly, not sure where she'd go with this. "I've worked here for thirteen years. Did you know that?" At that, he shook his head. "I've spent half of my life working here. And sometimes I wonder if I give them more importance than I should. This is probably silly, but… Would you… Would you ignore your sense of morality over loyalty for the family you work for?"

She didn't know where the words were coming from, but all of sudden it seemed appropriate to ask them. Mr. Bates was a very loyal man, everyone knew that. Everyone knew that he saved his lordship's life during the war. Anna never asked for details, but everyone knew that. Even if he hadn't been working at the house for a long time, he certainly knew Lord Grantham for well over ten years. And while Anna wouldn't tell him about how she helped dragging Mr. Pamuk's back to his room, there was no one else she'd trust more than him. She knew he wouldn't tell anyone. And she was certain he'd give her some good advice.

He frowned at her words, perhaps not expecting a question of such a deep nature.

"I don't think it's silly," he said at last. The clouds were gathering together above their heads. "It's a normal thing to worry about, especially in the positions we are in the house. We're supposed to be loyal. But in the world that we live in, our sense of morality is very important too. It's probably difficult for them to think of us this way, but we think as much as they do. Probably more than they do."

His light words made her smile and they chuckled together, silently agreeing with what he had just said. His tone was serious when he spoke again.

"In answer to your question, I suppose I would, if I thought that was the right thing to do."

Anna pursed her lips, "But what if you hadn't had much of choice?"

He pondered over her words. "I suppose that if, in the end, you maintain that you did the right thing, there's no reason why you should feel apprehensive about it."

Anna frowned upon what he had just told her. Did she do the right thing? She hadn't thought of it this way before. She hadn't taken things out of the equation – she only added them.

"I did do the right thing," Anna told him at last, "At least I think I did. Though I'm not sure how much of a decision I made; I didn't feel like there was any other option."

"Then perhaps your own loyalty made you sacrifice your sense of morality," he offered as an explanation.

Anna frowned, "Perhaps."

"The question you should ask yourself, Anna, is very simple. Had you any other option, would you have done the same? And if, by all means, you maintain your position of doing what felt right, you have nothing to worry about."

Anna weighted his words carefully. Had she any other option, would she have helped Lady Mary? She didn't need to think much about this. Of course she would. Lady Mary had trusted her enough to seek for her help. Even if she did not need to help her, Anna would have. Mr. Bates was right. She didn't need to worry about that. Only, the grounds of morality were shaken beneath her feet. How difficult it was, to keep a balance between such things! She had helped to drag a dead man down the halls of the great Downton Abbey. It would be such a scandal if anyone ever found out – and she would be included in that scandal. Thinking about it, much as it ashamed her, Anna couldn't regret it, not even if everyone found out.

How odd was that the only opinion she cared about was that of the man walking slowly beside her, offering her a piece of advice over this one matter? It was odd, and yet the whole idea made her heart ache for him even more.

"Don't worry, Anna. I'm sure that whatever it is that you've done, you made the right decision," his voice was so soft and it startled her all the same. He had a smile on his face. "You don't need to torture yourself about it. You just need to get back to your normal self. Or, well, if you don't, do tell me how the new you takes your tea. I might need to work on that."

Anna grinned at his teasing tone and shook her head, a small laugh escaping her lips.

"You don't need to worry about it," she told him, "Thank you. For the vow of trust. Even though you don't know what I'm talking about."

He smiled, "I do understand exactly what you're talking about. And that's what makes a good servant."

She held his gaze, proud of herself for the first since that night. She took a deep breath, and her heart skipped a bit when he averted his eyes and stared ahead, a playful smile on his lips.

"A kind housemaid once told me that whatever she found out wouldn't change her opinion of me," he said, risking one look at her, "I must say that the same applies to you, Anna. Don't worry about it. And whatever happens, do know that you'll still be held in high regards by me, if that matters only a bit."

His tone grew serious as he spoke, and Anna realised they had now stopped walking. A new rush of confidence spread through her body, and for a moment she considered telling him the truth. The truth about the Pamuk incident, the truth about how everything had been her idea. The truth about what was hunting her. The truth about her feelings about him.

Her heart was beating loudly against her chest and she exhaled slowly, as if this had been just the thing she needed to hear – and perhaps it was.

"Thank you," she told him, "And your opinion does matter to me. More than only a bit, you know. Much more than that."

Mr. Bates smiled and held her gaze, and time seemed to stop in that moment; Anna could have stood that admiring the features of his face forever. He seemed very calm and relaxed today. She knew his leg had been bothering during this past week, but hadn't brought the subject up because she knew he didn't like it. He seemed better, though. She hadn't seen him wince at all and he was walking with ease today. She was glad.

As if to spoil the moment, she felt a drop of rain fall on her shoulder, and then another fell on Mr. Bates' hat. They smiled.

"We best get going, or we'll be drenched by the time we get there," he told her quietly, "We should talk more, Miss Smith."

Anna let out a laugh at his teasing tone as she followed him back to their path, now walking faster than before.

"That we should, Mr. Bates."

And she believed in him, she truly did; even though he had been stubborn when she had told him her opinion wouldn't change, she was still as convinced as before that it wouldn't. And for that reason alone, she believed in him. Perhaps some people would see her actions as shameful and wrong, but Anna couldn't see it that way. Mr. Bates was right. She was peaceful with her conscience. Maybe, one day, she'd gather up enough courage to tell him about what happened that night.

And perhaps she would one day tell Mr. Bates about her feelings towards him too.


End file.
